


One Word Prompts

by imnotokay_imgay



Series: Heathers [2]
Category: Heathers (1988), Heathers: The Musical - Murphy & O'Keefe
Genre: Angst, Anxiety, Anxiety Attacks, Autistic Heather McNamara, Bisexual Heather Duke, Bisexual Veronica Sawyer, Bulimia, Dissociative Identity Disorder, Drunk Heather Duke, Drunk Heather McNamara, Drunk Veronica Sawyer, Eating Disorders, F/F, Fluff, Ghost Heather Chandler, Hurt/Comfort, Lesbian Heather Chandler, Lesbian Heather McNamara, Lesbian Veronica Sawyer, Mom Friend Heather McNamara, Mom Friend Veronica Sawyer, Multi, Self-Harm, Sensory Processing Disorder, Speech Disorders, Trans Heather Duke, bisexual heather mcnamara
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-08-22
Updated: 2020-10-26
Packaged: 2021-03-06 16:00:10
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 5,073
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26021551
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/imnotokay_imgay/pseuds/imnotokay_imgay
Summary: A series of one word prompts, hope you all enjoy some more Heathers trash from me :) TWs will be included in the notes at beginning of chapters. Each of these will be one shots that are unrelated to the others in the work
Relationships: Heather Chandler/Heather Duke, Heather Chandler/Heather Duke/Heather McNamara/Veronica Sawyer, Heather Chandler/Heather McNamara, Heather Chandler/Veronica Sawyer, Heather Duke/Heather McNamara, Heather Duke/Veronica Sawyer, Heather McNamara/Veronica Sawyer
Series: Heathers [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1850614
Comments: 9
Kudos: 54





	1. Hope

**Author's Note:**

> So...hope. Something which Veronica Sawyer lacks and Heather McNamara has plenty to offer.
> 
> TW:  
> \- Self harm

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Heather McNamara x Veronica Sawyer (mostly platonic)
> 
> TW  
> \- Self harm
> 
> Hope you enjoy

Veronica sat there, motionless. She had no idea what to say, what to think. But what she did know, was that Heather McNamara's bed was so soft she never wanted to leave. The cheerful yellow girl had disappeared some time previously to who knows where. So she sat, her arms bared for the world to see for the first time in longer than she could remember. Numbness was setting in, the dull ache of another person walking away from her.

"Ronnie!"

Heather walked back into the room, a tiny smile on her face, holding cream and bandages. She sat down opposite Veronica and started working on the cuts. To each she applied a small dab of cream, rubbing it in gently. First one arm, then the other, the soft bandages being wrapped around her forearms with care. But it wasn't enough, it would never be enough, not for Veronica. From the minute she had met Heather in the bathrooms she had been fascinated by her. Her creepy but innocent comment about having a symmetrical face, her genuine warmth and charm, her joy in life and fervent hope that things would get better. She was the kindest of the Heathers, the only one Veronica could stand any amount of time alone with, the only one Veronica trusted. And...it hadn't taken long for Veronica to fall for her. Not with her long blonde hair that seemed to shine like liquid gold in the sun, not with her dark brown eyes that seemed to always be sparkling and filled with laughter, not with her kind words and understanding and warm hugs. And now here they were, the soft hands tending Veronica's cuts warm and gentle.

"You know, I'm always here if you want to talk, Ronnie."

Veronica refused to meet her eyes. Heather was so full of warmth and kindness and it made her head spin and her hands shake. But more than that, the light in her eyes was something Veronica loved to see, refused to let go out because of her. She had seen her own eyes in the mirror, dull and cold. Her arms done, Veronica found a hand under her chin, forcing her head up. She met Heather's eyes, tired and sick of trying to act okay. 

"Have hope, Veronica. Things will get better."

Hope? Better? She wondered if Heather knew how impossible that was. Veronica hadn't had hope in too long. She'd been broken down by high school, seen what could only be the worst of the world. So what was hope except naivety, a wish to get hurt? How could things get better when the only direction they were going was down? But she had to admire Heather's ability to see the best of the world, her strength in being able to stay with the Heathers and still be kinder than them. She knew that for her, things could not be better than this moment, than Heather there with her, trying to give her some semblance of the light she was once familiar with. And she knew that Heather would give up, she knew that it would be too much. She couldn't stop the million thoughts racing through her brain, the demons that haunted her every moment. _It's not worth fighting for. She's so pretty. She'll never like you. Her hands are so soft. How could things get better? Her hugs are so comforting. You don't deserve comfort from someone as good as her._ The endless loop, the downward spiral. But Heather was smart, she knew the thoughts that went through Veronica's mind, knew when she needed to be held.

The way Heather McNamara saw it, everyone had a light inside them, like a candle burning in their soul. She knew she was lucky, she had the support of her family and friends, she was captain of the cheer squad, she was pretty and popular. Her flame was steady and unwavering most of the time, and when it did waver she had the people around her to shield the flame so it didn't go out. But she knew others weren't so lucky. She knew Veronica didn't have anyone to shield her flame when the wind tried to blow it out. She knew that the flame had almost gone out a few times, and each time she had stood with her head bowed beside Veronica's, holding their flames together to keep the wick burning. She could feel the wind blowing against her, so close to snuffing out Veronica's flame, trying to make hers go out too. But she refused to let it, because that flame was not just the light in her eyes and the fire in her soul, it was the laughter in her voice, the strength in her body, the knowledge in her mind, the loyalty and love in her heart. So she stood tall and shared her flame with others, giving them a tiny spark to help them keep their flame alive.

"It's going to be okay Veronica. Maybe not today, maybe not next year, but one day it's going to be okay."

Would it be okay? Would things get better? She wanted to hope, wanted to believe. But she had no idea how, was absolutely terrified of getting hurt again.

"Will you stay with me?"

She hadn't meant to ask, hadn't wanted to actually admit to wanting Heather's help. But as Heather leaned in and hugged her, long and gentle and fierce, full of warmth and light and hope, Veronica didn't regret it. And as Heather answered her question, soft and comforting and promising, Veronica found that she believed her.

"Every step of the way."

Maybe things weren't okay right now, maybe they wouldn't be okay for a while. But at least now she had Heather with her, had someone to teach her hope again.


	2. Gratitude

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Heather Chandler x Heather McNamara

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Kinda sucks but hope you enjoy anyway.
> 
> Nox

Heather Chandler and Heather McNamara sat together, curled up with each other as they enjoyed each others company. Neither of them said a word. They didn’t need to. Complete silence filled the room as the two girls basked in the warmth of the other. Heather McNamara sat on Chandler’s lap, curled up into a tight ball, and all she could feel were Chandler’s arms around her and her warmth radiating and the softness of her hair as she buried her face her shoulder. She could smell berries from Chandler’s shampoo, sweet and fresh, she could smell pink grapefruit perfume, sharp and tangy but still slightly sweet. But she was most focussed on what she could feel under her hand, namely Chandler’s heartbeat. It was steady and strong. One hand stayed wrapped around Chandler’s waist and the other on her chest, feeling her pulse and letting it calm her. Sure they had school today, and yes they were sitting in McNamara’s bedroom instead, but they had good reason and they had Veronica to keep them out of trouble. 

It had been a long time since McNamara had had an anxiety attack as bad as this one, bad enough that she’d called Chandler at five in the morning, not knowing what else to do, gasping for breaths that wouldn’t come and seeing the world spinning around her, lost track of where she was and finding that everything was blurred. Then Chandler had picked up, the sleepiness vanishing from her voice the instant she heard the first of McNamara’s tortured gasps. She had known exactly what to do, asking her to breath, asking her to focus on what was around her, grounding her and then when it was finished, she had told the now exhausted blonde that she loved her. Not ten minutes later, just as McNamara was on the verge on falling asleep, a shadow crawled through her unlocked window and Heather Chandler was there, in her bedroom, holding out her arms for a hug. She had jumped up and run into her girlfriend’s arms, feeling Chandler pick her up and then them sitting down on the bed.

“Thank you, thank you, thank you.”

McNamara’s quiet words were so out of the blue that Chandler found herself unable to respond for a minute. When she did, it was to press a gentle kiss to the top of McNamara’s head and find the hand holding her, linking their fingers together. Then she slowly lay down, not bothering to draw the covers up around them and instead drawing McNamara closer to her. Arms tangled around waists and the only one free was the hand that McNamara still had resting over Chandler’s heartbeat. 

“I love you, M.”

The words were accompanied by a gentle kiss, it only lasted a second, but it was enough for McNamara to find herself falling even further for Chandler. It was rare for her to hear the words, not at school and rarely in public at all. But the kiss made it so much easier to fall, because it was sloppy and full of tongues and rough like when she kissed college frat boys. It was gentle and warm, simple pecks out of nowhere, innocent kisses that McNamara wouldn’t have thought her possible of. 

“I love you too, C.”

Then both girls were drifting off to sleep, still enjoying the warmth of the other, exhausted from staying up all night. But that was okay, they could shut the world out for a while. Duke and Veronica would be around after school, but until then it was just the two of them and there was nothing stopping them from sleeping. So curled up with each other they slept, and McNamara woke once, saw Chandler’s peaceful face half obscured by strawberry blonde hair, smiled and went back to sleep. But she thought to herself about how lucky she was to have her girlfriend. She couldn’t be more grateful. 


	3. Pain

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Heather McNamara/Veronica Sawyer

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A continuation of Hope but a lot darker...
> 
> TW:  
> \- Self harm  
> \- Accidental almost suicide  
> \- Blood

Veronica Sawyer’s day had gone from mildly inconvenient (forgetting her diary) to slightly worse (not finishing her English homework) to incredibly irritating (Heather Chandler deciding that she wanted to skip the second half of school, resulting in her almost being caught by Ms Fleming writing out fake slips for them to leave) to absolutely awful (her having an argument with her girlfriend). It hadn’t even been about anything substantial, it was just her being irrational because Heather had wanted to go shopping with Heather Duke instead of her and had left her with an overly bubbly Heather Chandler who was happy to be skipping school and was more concerned about her wardrobe than her grades. _Just because I’m your girlfriend doesn’t mean I have to spend all my time with you. Heather was my friend for ages before you even joined the group, of course I want to spend time with her. Now stop bloody sulking and just get on with your day. I’ll make time and go out with you another day._ Okay, so it hadn’t been that bad. But…in Veronica’s mind it had been nothing more than what she’d expected: she was second pick, even to her girlfriend she came second. If it came down to her or Heather Duke she would always be saved for another day because she just wasn’t important enough. She sat there, debating internally whether or not to actually bother trying anymore. Trying to put Heather first, trying to…actually get better. She was doing better, she had good things. But after her crap day she found it hard to remember. That was probably why she found herself sitting on her bed toying with a blade. It was small, only about an inch long, and it was incredibly sharp. _If Heather doesn’t care enough to spend a day with me, why would I trust her to stick by me until these stupid thoughts leave my head?_ Rationally it made no sense to her, but she was tired and she wanted something to take her mind off her bad day. So with that in mind, she started, carefully, making sure that nothing was out of place. She might have been hurting but there was no way she wanted to die. Then her phone rang, startling her. She jumped and cursed quietly as the blade dug deeper into her wrist. Without looking at her phone she dropped the blade she was holding and answered it.

“Ronnie? I just wanted to see how you were.”

It was Heather McNamara. She found herself in a tight spot. She didn’t want to tell Heather how she was feeling or what she’d done in case Heather was upset. On the contrary, she hated lying to her.

“I’m…alright, just a bit tired.”

She was lying. She was tired, incredibly so…it just wasn’t all physical. Of course she was physically tired, it was almost midnight after all, but more she was tired of thinking about things that weren’t helpful and having these stupid thoughts and feelings going through her mind. Her wrist felt like it was burning. She could feel something went sliding down into her hand. She was afraid to look down so she stared at the clock on her bedroom wall.

“Oh…okay. Heather just mentioned that you were sort of quiet today at the mall.”

“No, I’m fine. I just-”

She stopped herself on the verge of saying ‘I just wanted to spend time with you and I was hurt when you brushed me off to hang out with Heather because we’ve barely spent any time at all with just the two of us since you promised you’d stick with me while I tried to get better and I want to tell you that I'm not doing well again but I’m scared you won't care or you’ll think I’m too much trouble and you’ll leave me’ and instead looked down at her covers. Then she noticed a large wet patch on her covers. One that was growing larger with each passing moment. A patch that was very very red. She looked at her hand, and it took her a moment to process the fact that her palm was covered in the very same blood which soaked her sheets, and more was rapidly leaving her wrist. She let out every curse word she knew, only stopping when she realised that Heather was still on the phone to her and could hear what she was saying.

“What happened?”

“Nothing. I-”

Her voice cracked as she felt blood trickling off her fingertips onto her already soaked sheets. She tried to speak again, clearing her throat first.

“Don’t worry about-”

On the verge of telling Heather that she was fine and not to worry, she tried to move her hand and accidentally bent her wrist slightly, causing a flare of pain that felt like her wrist was on fire and a fresh surge of blood running down her hand. Heather’s worried voice came down the phone but she found that the words didn’t quite make sense. Everything was sort of muffled, like she was suddenly underwater. She tried to talk but she found she couldn’t quite manage it. She fell backwards as the world spun around her. She could feel her wrist burning still, could feel the pain like an army of ants eating through her flesh and draining her blood. Then her whole body felt like it was burning, turning to ashes before everything started fading to darkness and something so so cold it felt like her whole body had been submerged in icy water. She pushed back, tried to find that burning pain again and the light from her phone screen to push away the darkness and cold. She managed for a second, managed to turn her head enough to see the image of Heather McNamara’s smiling face beaming up at her, a gold flower crown and minimal makeup and no resemblance to her usual school smirk but still radiantly beautiful and cheerful. She kept fighting trying to stay awake, trying to hear her girlfriend’s voice still. It was still muffled, still coming from a long tunnel, the words bouncing around her mind and not registering any proper meaning. She finally found a tiny reserve of strength to speak, a few words that she hoped Heather could hear.

“Love you, Sunshine. Help.”

Then she finally found herself submerged in icy darkness, trapped without a way out. It was almost beautiful, the darkness around her, so black that there were almost other colours, so cold it burned almost like a blazing fire. She could hear voices, lots of them. She didn’t recognise any. The noises only came with a sudden flare of burning pain in her wrist, the feeling of being stabbed over and over. Once she thought she heard the voices of McNamara, Chandler and Duke, but they faded quickly along with everything else. 

Finally she came to completely. She found herself in a small room with bleached white walls and ceiling. The sheets were smooth but the blanket thrown over her was warm and slightly rough. The only thing she could smell was the faint tang of blood and very strong disinfectant.She heard a faint rustle of papers to her left and looked over, her hair not making any sound on the starched bedclothes. Wonder of all wonders…sitting in the chair next to her, looking like she hadn’t slept in a day, was one Heather McNamara. Even slightly dishevelled and dressed casually as she was, Veronica still thought she looked beautiful. Her blonde hair looked almost gold in the harsh fluorescent hospital lights, and she wore no makeup. She sat crosslegged on an armchair reading a book, her black skinny jeans cuffed and her yellow shirt slightly rumpled. Veronica forced her mind to work and her vision to focus on the title of the book. _Jane Eyre._ Veronica had talked about the book to her before, it was one of her favourites. She stared at Heather, whose focus was completely engaged by the book, her hazel eyes flicking back and forth as she absorbed the words. After what felt like a lifetime of just staring at Heather, wondering if she was hallucinating, Heather yawned and stretched. Veronica could hear her bones cracking in the silence. Then she returned to reading…for all of a moment, before she snapped her head back to look at Veronica’s open eyes. They stared at each other for a long moment and the silence wasn’t comfortable like it usually was within the group now, it was heavy and awkward, a hundred things that needed to be said and no idea how to say them filling the void. Veronica found that she couldn’t find anything in her except fatigue, not even the earlier pain. She held out a hand to Heather, trying her hardest to ignore to stark white bandage around her forearm and thickest at her wrist. There was only a dull ache there now, easy to ignore. Heather didn’t take her hand, only stared at it as though she had never seen it before. 

“Heather?”

There was no response to Veronica’s quiet voice. Heather continued to just stare. It was as though she were lost in a trance. Then Veronica saw the lack of light in her hazel eyes, the downward tilt to the corners of her lips, the almost imperceptible shaking of her hands in her lap.

“What’s wrong, love?”

Heather just shook her head slowly and reached out, touching her fingers gently to Veronica’s. Her hands were warm and soft and for a moment Veronica just revelled in the feeling, gently linking their hands. Heather still seemed dazed as she suddenly moved to sit down next to Veronica. Veronica scooted over on the bed to make room for her. Heather slid under the covers and put her arms around Veronica, holding her tightly, not saying a word. Veronica could feel her whole body trembling.

“Heather, my little ray of sunshine, what’s upsetting you?”

From where she had her face buried into Veronica’s shoulder, the mumbled words were impossible to make out. But seconds later Veronica felt the hot wetness of tears on her hospital gown. She put her arms around Heather, ignoring the renewed throbbing in her wrist. Heather so obviously upset by something hurt Veronica almost as much as the pain in her wrist when she’d blacked out. Finally, hazel eyes slightly red and puffy, Heather brought her head up to look directly at Veronica.

“I thought you were dead.”

The quiet words made Veronica freeze. When had Heather seen her? What had she looked like?

“What?”

The hoarse whisper was enough for Heather to stop focussing on Veronica. She didn’t start crying again but she didn’t look Veronica in the eye as she spoke. There was an intensity to her, a singular focus within her blank gaze. So Veronica let her talk, let her say everything she wanted to say. Her voice was quiet and steady, and despite the sad story it told Veronica couldn’t stop listening.

“Heather told me that you were really quiet after I decided on go with Duke, you barely said a word except for when she asked for your opinion and even then it was …almost like you weren’t all there, and she mentioned that any time she asked if she thought something would look good on me or Duke you pretended not to hear. Then when I called you, I wanted to make sure you were okay but you never really answered me. You kept cursing and I had no idea what was happening. Suddenly you stopped talking and I was terrified, Veronica, I thought you’d hung up on me for a minute but then I saw the call was still going and you weren’t responding. I went over to your place and when I came in through the window you were just lying on your bed in a pool of blood. It was all over your sheets and clothes. More of it was coming out of your wrist. I called an ambulance and they brought you here. They took out the drip about 2 hours ago, just before Heather and Heather left. They told me to stay and make sure you were alright. I…you were unconscious for 16 hours, Veronica. I thought you were going to die. I haven’t slept since yesterday morning.”

Heather stopped speaking and finally met Veronica’s eyes. Veronica could see fear and worry and…something like hurt. Then she spoke again, her voice even softer.

“I thought I was going to lose you.”

Veronica didn’t know what to do or say except to hold her tighter.

“I’m sorry. I love you.”

“Love you too.”

Then Heather yawned, clearly tired. She snuggled up to Veronica and quickly fell asleep after giving Veronica a quick kiss on the cheek. Veronica couldn’t help but stare. Out of all the ways she thought she would spend her Friday and part of Saturday, it hadn’t been ending up in hospital. That said, she definitely wasn’t complaining about getting to hold onto Heather while she slept. Not when Heather looked so relaxed when she slept, and her blonde hair was fluffy and smelt like citrus, and she literally radiated warmth. So with Heather tucked against her, she drifted back to sleep. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yeah...this one is kinda dark but hope you at least sort of enjoyed it maybe?
> 
> Nox


	4. Rain

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Heather Chandler x Heather McNamara

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, so in this particular chapter Heather McNamara has autism and as such, a sensory processing disorder. Now bearing in mind that I have neither though I do know people with one or both, I have tried to do it but feel free to let me know if I should change anything or gotten something wrong...

Heather McNamara was not feeling good…and by not good, she felt absolutely awful. School had been terrible, home was even worse. It was Valentine’s Day and that meant everyone being exceptionally loud and extra touchy-feely. There was also the small matter of the bright colours everywhere around the school, whitewashed walls and grimy floors layered in bright confetti and glitter, balloons and posters everywhere in every colour imaginable. It made her head hurt. After a day of dealing with louder-and-more-obnoxious-than-usual jocks shoving brightly coloured cards and balloons and flowers at her while yelling lewd comments…she had snapped. Not at the jocks, not at Veronica and Duke who had stayed out of her way since they had noticed her irritation after third period history. She didn’t blame them. She wasn’t in any mood to interact. She had snapped at Heather Chandler, who happened to not only be the Head Bitch of Westerberg, she was also her girlfriend. 

For her part, Heather Chandler understood what had happened. She had wanted to spend time with Heather, curl up with her girlfriend and just talk but…a day of noise and people who didn’t respect people’s personal space got on everyone’s nerves. For a person with sensory processing issues it was a nightmare. For McNamara it was caused by her autism which had resulted in a complete shutdown later in the day. Chandler had found her girlfriend curled up in a ball, sitting on the floor of a bathroom stall, shaking and not saying a word. She had tried whispering but had stopped when the only acknowledgement was a sharp slap on the arm. She had tried signing but it was as though Heather couldn't see her, was staring straight through her into a void. So she'd done the only thing she could: gotten Veronica to forge a note for them both and left school with Heather in tow, still not saying anything or seeing anything, lashing out at Chandler if she came within a metre of her. They finally made it to Chandler’s place, where her mother was waiting. Heather had called her in advance, letting her know that she was coming home with McNamara and that she was currently still shutdown. Her mother knew what this meant, so she didn’t say a word, didn’t reach out to pull Heather into a hug like she usually would have. She just signed to her daughter that there was food in her room for them and to take as long as necessary. 

When the girls were in Heather’s room, McNamara had lain down on Chandler’s bed and, in spite of the temperature being quite comfortable, crawled underneath the covers, hands fidgeting with the fluffy material. So Heather Chandler took a plate, sat at the opposite end of the bed with a book, and ate as she read The Keeper. It was the second novel in the DI Sean Corrigan series, which she was inordinately fond of, as she was with any crime series but particularly murder mysteries. After about half an hour she felt something change and looked in Heather’s direction to find a pair of wide hazel eyes staring at her. Not through her now, but directly at her, meeting her grey gaze solemnly. Her hands stopped fidgeting with the blanket long enough to sign _look out the window_ , which she promptly did, seeing McNamara’s gaze return there. It was raining. Not a thunderstorm with loud noise and flashing lights, just water droplets falling from the sky and trickling down the window, wetting the soil of the planter box that was filled with zinnias of all different colours. It was beautiful, it was peaceful, it was lovely. She moved from the bed and grabbed a pair of old clothes, black jeans and a white top with a light red cardigan. She moved into her ensuite to get changed before emerging in the worn and comfortable clothing. She rummaged through her wardrobe until she found an old pair of Heather’s clothing, black tights and a white t-shirt and yellow button down with long sleeves. She held them out to McNamara who raised a questioning eyebrow. Not knowing her reaction to sound yet even though she seemed okay with the steady drumming of rain on the ceiling, Heather opted to sign instead. _I want to dance together._ McNamara stared at her, hands still fidgeting and eyes wide. She slowly got up from under the covers and took the clothes gingerly from Chandler, careful to avoid contact. She moved slowly into the bathroom, looking as though she were half asleep. 

The girls made it outside and stood for a minute facing each other. The gentle rain slowly seeped into their clothing and made their hair flat. McNamara was staring at Chandler as though she were confused. _We’re outside in the rain getting wet._ But the longer they stood with cold water seeping into their clothing and staring at each other, the tiny glimmer in McNamara’s eyes grew brighter. _We can dance together like when we were children._ Chandler took a step back and spun around, arms out to her sides and hair flying in the slight breeze, spraying water droplets around her. A hint of a smile touched the corners of McNamara’s mouth as she followed suit, her own blonde hair spraying an arc of rain droplets in every direction. The two girls stayed out for the next half an hour, twirling around in the rain and making themselves so dizzy they stumbled around and almost fell multiple times. When they were resting they just walked slowly around the yard. Finally, Chandler started shivering slightly with the cold and wet clothing. McNamara noticed. _Do you want to go inside?_ Chandler hesitated. She had wanted to make McNamara feel better but further than almost smiling, she still seemed to shut away inside herself. _One last time._ She stuck her arms out and spun around one more time in the rain, making herself dizzier than ever. She tripped on a slippery patch of grass and went down, landing on her back on the lawn and the breath knocked out of her. She could feel the mud getting onto her clothes and into her hair, could feel its slimy wetness beneath her hands. She looked up breathlessly at McNamara who had come closer when she’d fallen. As they locked eyes, McNamara let out a tiny giggle, quiet and sweet, the first sound she’d made since she’d shut down. Chandler stared at her girlfriend, shaking slightly as she laughed quietly at Chandler, a dimple popping out in one cheek, her eyelashes glittering with raindrops, her hazel eyes wide and bright and catching the dim light just right to seem almost as green as the grass she lay on. 

They went inside and changed out of their wet clothes, Chandler taking a quick shower to wash the mud out of her hair. Neither girl had spoken yet. Neither of them needed to. But they lay on the bed, hair still damp and curling slightly in the warmth of the bedroom. They held hands and stared around the room at the pictures lining the walls, the rain still falling outside the window, each other. It was beautiful, it was peaceful, it was perfect. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Despite any mistakes about autism and sensory processing disorders (let me know in the comments if I need to change something or have offended you) I hope you've enjoyed this chapter.
> 
> Nox


End file.
